A week later I wrote Daphne a letter. It ran as follows:—
"MY DEAR DAPHNE,—I am going to get married. Tina is nineteen, the same as you, and is in the chorus of a musical comedy. She has real jet black hair, so I am quite lucky. I hope you are fonder of me already.
Yours devotedly, BILLY."
In reply, and by return of post, I received an invitation to tea at Daphne's. Daphne, looking beautiful, was awaiting me.
"How d'you do?" I said gravely.
"Billy," Daphne began, "will you be really serious with me?"
I immediately assumed a business manner and coughed.
"Well?" I said.
The word was sharp and incisive, a regular lawyer's question.
"Of course, you're joking about this chorus girl?"